


Dirty

by SkinSlave



Series: Tijuana Bible Study [8]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Blasphemy, Corruption, Erotica, F/M, Hotel Sex, Loss of Virginity, Love Bites, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Touring, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinSlave/pseuds/SkinSlave
Summary: Sacrilege, Defiling and Edging with OC(OC that could be very loosely based on someone but you don't know her bc she goes to a different school and she would sue me AU, Dead to the World era, virginity, Christian blasphemy, orgasm denial, biting)





	Dirty

_Jesus Died For You, Manson._

It was written in black marker on a bright pink poster board and surrounded by crosses and hearts. The woman who held it outside the venue was distinctive: golden skin, relaxed wavy hair and a teal blouse. She was loud and plastic like a motivational speaker.

When Marilyn saw her in the hotel bar, it was too good an opportunity to waste. She was sipping white wine with her nose in the air. Her self-righteousness and the swell of her hips were like a string in front of a cat. He sent his assistant to invite her to his booth.

Her name was Niki and she shook his hand. He let her talk and kept her glass full. She was vapid: abstinence, sacrifice, blind obedience and pretentious morality. He kept his focus on her lips, her dark eyes, her manicure. He nodded. He leaned toward her and she mirrored the gesture. He put his hand on the table and she let their fingers touch.

Maybe it was a secret yearning to taste the other side. Maybe it was the feeling that she was getting through to him. The wine probably didn't hurt. When Marilyn told her he was staying upstairs and that it was loud and that he wanted to hear more, she smiled and followed him.

After the door closed, there was an awkward silence. He didn't mind, but Niki seemed to squirm. He walked toward her and she backed up until she hit the wall. Her eyes were wide. But when he kissed her, she kissed back.

“You smell good,” she whispered when he pulled back.

“No sulphur and brimstone?”

She laughed and he cut her off with another kiss. His painted lips were like butter. His tongue explored hers. She moaned into his mouth. She couldn't see his self-satisfied eyes, but she could feel his fingers on her blouse. She didn't seem to care.

“Convert me,” Marilyn purred.

He hooked a finger in the front of her bra and pulled her gently toward the bed. He was mesmerizing: his smudged eye shadow, his long black hair. His cheekbones were unreal. She let him guide her until she was on top of him, straddling his hips.

Niki kissed him deeply while his hands moved, pulling her bra away. Her skirt was bunched around her waist. He pulled her panties to the side and stroked her sex. She was slick, apparently enjoying her dance with the devil.

In a moment, Marilyn rolled her over. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, kicked his boots off, stripped his jeans away. He was covered in scars and healing cuts. She touched them tentatively.

“Recite a verse for me.”

“What?”

His hand found her breastbone, pressed down. She gasped. He brought his chin up, looked down his nose at her, suddenly a very different man.

“Recite.”

“‘Th-the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He ma-’”

“Heard that one,” Marilyn growled, rolling his eyes. His hand moved toward her throat, laying lightly, a threat. She licked her lips.

“‘I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star.’”

“Revelation 22:16. Try again.”

He tugged her panties off, his eyes never leaving hers. The skirt was tossed aside, leaving her black heels. He kneed her thighs open and settled between them.

“I, uh… ‘I have made you and I will carry you; I-I will s-sustain you and I will r-rescue you.’”

Niki's voice faltered as he plunged two fingers inside of her. He worked them slowly, his palm against her slick flesh. She rocked her hips and moaned. His smeared lips curled into a smirk.

“You think he's going to rescue you?”

He freed his length from the black boxers he still wore. Withdrawing his fingers, he teased her with the head. She reached for him. He let her dig at his hip bones but he didn't move. She was cute, Little Miss Abstinence.

“You want this filthy cock?”

Marilyn sounded so calm, so in control. She nodded.

“‘Ask and it shall be given you.’”

She shook her head. She wanted to, he could tell. But a part of her still thought that she was above him, that she couldn't possibly be feeling what she obviously felt. She thought she was better than that. He leaned forward, his hair a dark curtain, and licked her neck from collarbone to jaw. His breath in her ear made her shiver.

“Ask.”

“Please give me your filthy cock,” she whispered, and just like that, she was his.

Marilyn sank into her center and sighed. She was tight and she moaned as if he were twice his size. He wondered if she actually practiced what she preached. His cock throbbed at the thought. He put his weight on her, a reminder of his dominance. His length was still.

“Please,” Niki gasped, wriggling. “Please do it.”

“Do what?” he teased.

“Take me… make love to me…”

He clicked his tongue and pushed, pressing against her cervix in an almost painful way. She clenched down and squeaked.

“We don't do that here.”

She wrapped her arms around him. Her long nails ran over his tattooed shoulders. She closed her eyes tightly.

“Please fuck me.”

Marilyn smirked and pulled back slowly, leaving just the tip in. She whimpered in frustration and tried to hike her hips. Now that she'd tasted it, she needed it.

“Please fuck me,” she panted. “Please, please, fuck me.”

He rewarded her with deep plunges that drew delicate sounds from her lips. Between moans, she repeated her mantra. It was almost mindless and fueled by a fear that he might stop.

“You have a dirty mouth,” Marilyn growled. “You’d think all those prayers would keep it clean.”

He pulled out of her and sat up. Her expression was pitiful, a mix of shock and hurt. He couldn't suppress a grin as he moved up her side, to her face. His hand on her shoulder pulled her up his other hand pushed his cock toward her mouth.

“Open up,” he chuckled.

Niki obeyed with a whimper. He slid his length between her lips. It was glistening with her arousal. She took it to the back of her throat without a fight. After a moment, she had her nose buried in the fabric of his shorts, her tongue curling around the underside.

“That's it,” he whispered huskily. “Body of Christ…”

She hummed at that, enjoying his blasphemy much more than she wanted to admit. He was everything that she wasn't. He could do everything that she couldn't. She bobbed her head, sucking and lapping, looking up at him for approval. She wasn't bad, for a virgin.

Marilyn pushed her off and returned to the foot of the bed. He yanked on her hips until she was on her knees and elbows, ass in the air. He kneaded the smooth, round, chestnut flesh before jamming his cock back in.

If anything, it was even wetter. Niki moaned and pushed back against him. He gripped her tightly and pounded out a steady rhythm. Her warmth trembled around him. Her voice dropped half an octave. He knew what was happening even if she didn't. He backed off, thrusting slowly.

“No…” she whined, rolling her hips. “Please…”

“You're going to cum if I keep it up,” he rumbled, reaching down to run his thumb over her sex. “You don't wanna cum, do you?”

She nodded and he stopped completely.

“Do you?”

It was an ultimatum, not a question. He wasn't going to move until she gave the right answer. Niki didn't seem to understand. She tried to grind into him. He pulled out entirely.

“Please…”

His hand wrapped around her neck and pulled her up onto her knees. His teeth grazed her shoulder. She shivered.

“Do you want to cum, angel?”

“Yes.”

He tugged her backward, fingers closing tighter on her throat. He bit down on the tender spot above her collarbone. A strangled squeal escaped.

“Do you want to cum?”

“No,” she gasped.

“Do you want to make me cum?”

She nodded earnestly. He believed her. His fingers traced her nipple before pinching. She bucked, tried to bend in half. He held her a bit longer than necessary before shoving her back down into the mattress.

His length slid easily into place. He gave a few hard thrusts, then stopped and slapped her ass. She backed up, fucking herself on his cock. Her moans were softer as she focused.

“That's it,” Marilyn purred, running a hand through his bottle-black hair. “Clench down on it.”

She did and it milked a moan from his painted lips. That seemed to spur her on. She picked up the pace, panting into the comforter.

“Are you gonna cum in me?”

“‘Test me in this,'” he huffed, “‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.'”

“Yeah,” she moaned loudly, “give it to me.”

Marilyn took over, slapping her ass between thrusts. Her tight, wet heat was too good. He felt the boil rising, sitting low in his hips. He rode a dangerous line, aiming for the edge. At the last possible moment, he disappeared.

Niki looked over her shoulder, gasping. Her eyes were hungry. She stared as his cock bobbed against his taut stomach. It was thick and red. He held his hands back despite the urge to finish himself off.

“Get out.”

“What?” She rolled over, eyes wide, stuttering, “wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean, get out,” Marilyn repeated in a bored tone. “You don't deserve my load, choir girl, and you know it.”

He waved his hand dismissively. Niki looked as though she might cry. She sat awkwardly. He ignored her, stretched out on the bed. His long legs shoved her to the side. Her mouth moved for several seconds before she could find words.

“How… how do I earn it?”

Marilyn's dark eyes flashed. He pursed his lips as though he were deep in thought. He brought his hand up and examined his chipped black nail polish. The silence made her squirm in the most delicious way.

“You still think you're clean,” he finally said. “You think you can just shower me off. That this dirt won't get under those perfect plastic nails. That you can pray the stain away.”

She looked ashamed. Maybe she hadn't thought that far ahead, but it was the truth. If she had her way, she'd cum on his cock and slink away to church to absolve herself. She'd indulge like a goddamned whore and then go back to making sanctimonious picket signs.

He gave her a few seconds to respond. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

“Pathetic.”

“Wait. Please. I…” she crawled closer, put her hand on his tattooed arm. “I don't want to wash you off. I don't… I don't wanna be clean.”

Marilyn stretched, folded his arms behind his head. His look was condescending. Desperate, she reached for his erection. He let her mouth on it, wetting it down and working it back to full strength. What she lacked in experience she made up for in enthusiasm.

He noticed her hand sneaking between her thighs. The way she rubbed circles into her sex seemed practiced. Maybe she'd been a sinner all along. When she hiked one leg over his hips, he didn't object.

Niki settled over him, gasping at the depth. He maintained a look of disinterest, working to keep his breaths even as she ground into him. Her breasts, natural and tipped in mocha, bobbed inches from his face. He fought the reflex to touch them, suck them into his mouth.

“Please, Marilyn,” she said softly. “I want…”

He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin, staring her down.

“What do you want?”

“I want to be dirty.” There wasn't any point in pretending otherwise. “I want your dirt. I want your grease and your blood and your darkness…”

Watching her lose herself was more satisfying than the orgasm that was building. Marilyn reached down to stroke her as she moved. It didn't take long for her to reach the edge. She shivered and closed her eyes. He took his hand back.

“Do you want to cum?”

Niki shook her head, swallowed hard. She slowed just enough for it to die back. Good girl. He let the thin threads of a smile pull his lips. She noticed and grinned.

“I want to make you cum,” she hummed.

“‘Pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.’” His voice was hoarse.

“Please,” she said, leaning back for a deeper thrust. “Please, God-”

“He’s not listening.”

She kicked up the speed, catching on to his meaning. She was slick and firm and rippling. Those perfect breasts bounced. She rested one hand on his stomach, feeling the raised scars just above the waistband of his boxers.

“Please, Manson, bless me. I want it… please…”

It was rising fast, sitting low, coiled. He clenched one hand into a fist at his side. The other tucked his hair behind his ear.

“What, exactly, do you want?”

“I want your dirt in me. I need it. So deep it'll never come out. Please, Marilyn, give me your dirty cum.”

Her newfound filth, the way her voice broke and turned up at the end… He couldn't hold back much longer. His hand rose and Niki leaned into it, gave him her throat. Her submission was beautiful.

“You don't cum until I tell you,” he growled, on the edge. “That's your sacrifice.”

She nodded, her brow knit. She made a strained noise as she clenched, trying to hold on and he lost it.

Marilyn lifted his hips, driving his cock into her. It pulsed, yanking a groan from his gut. The pleasure was blinding. Under the sounds of his release, he could hear her liturgy.

“Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty…”

He didn't want to stop until she was full of his filth, until she had to swallow it back. He growled and pulled her down on top of him. His teeth sank into her shoulder. Niki squealed but she didn't pull away.

As the last of his embers cooled, he let go. She sat up, whining. His teeth had left a welt. She'd be feeling him for a while. With a stifled moan, she rolled off and laid next to him. He could see one hand cupping her sex, trembling.

“Thank you,” she murmured, nuzzling his shoulder, one hand on his stomach. “Can I… can I cum?”

“What did I say?”

“That it was my sacrifice. But… you came… and…”

That hand was pressing hard now, middle finger rubbing in his mess. He snatched her wrist and pulled it away. A wet thread stretched and broke, leaving a streak on his stained underwear.

“Thessalonians 5:18. Recite.”

She pressed her eyebrows together, tried to push through the hot fog of the edge. Her face fell.

“‘Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is his will for you...’ But I can't…”

He lifted her hand to his mouth, sucked the wet from her fingers. His tongue gliding through his own cum was so nasty, so sensual, so completely decadent. It was everything she said she wanted. Her breath was ragged.

“I won't cum until you tell me, sir. I won't. But please, can I… will I see you again?”

“Next stop is Phoenix,” he purred around her fingers. “And if I see you with a picket sign, you'll never cum again.”


End file.
